


Scattered

by TedizStalker



Category: Madness Combat (Web Series), Newgrounds Rumble (Video Game), Pico's Cousin (Video Game), Pico's School (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Mild depiction of a scattered body, Piconjo is best known for l33t speak, Sorry if there's not much of that here, Stories from a Bear, Yes Piconjo is an immortal zombie at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TedizStalker/pseuds/TedizStalker
Summary: Why Piconjo took a spicy rocket for Otis is beyond the latter. But there are some things the ginger refuses to share up front.Whether he can say right now or not.
Kudos: 6





	Scattered

It was a dumb idea.

It was a really dumb idea, even for his standards.

In fact, it was a _really stupid idea._

It’s as stupid as letting Nevadean bandits adopt an abandoned MAG agent.

But the alternative is that Piconjo didn’t take a direct hit from a spicy rocket, and let it sail onwards in its trajectory, towards Otis.

He is immortal, after all. It was better that bits and pieces of his body were scattered instead of letting Otis take the hit. He would continue to keep his promise. The only problem now is that he isn’t livid enough to force a regeneration from the neck down.

So. Picking up the scattered pieces, it is then.

~~

It would have been easy to cave into the siren that was fatigue as he felt hands link their fingers together under his chin, close to his throat. Or what’s left of it anyway. It would have been easy, if said siren wasn’t constantly interrupted by Otis musing out loud to himself. His vocal cords may be fucked until further notice, but his ears aren’t.

“Great… how are we supposed to find your body now that it’s in pieces?”

Piconjo only gave a grunt of agreement in response. Being immortal sucks, but it makes keeping promises in the face of should-have-been death easier. The lack of red cells made it impossible to ignore an anemic headache from forming, but that will fix itself once he could at least get his head back on his torso. Now… where was it?

“What I want to know is why you took that shot for me.” Otis began again before going quiet, expecting a verbal response. But even if Piconjo was able to voice it, he wouldn’t anyway. All he did was glance up at the kid cop with a raised brow. “I mean, I kind of get it. You’re still here with an active brain and all, but if I was hit by that rocket, I would have been a goner. I can’t return tomorrow, fine and dandy, like my cousin can.”

 _‘Well, there you go kid. You just answered your own pondering.’_ The ginger thinks with a slight eye roll, one that Otis wasn’t able to catch.

“Still. What’s eating you?”

 _‘Besides maggots?’_ At this thought, the ginger suppresses an amused smirk as he glances up again. _‘Kid, if I could talk, I’ll damn well tell you where the next nearest piece of my body is. And we really shouldn’t be dilly-dallying. The zeds will have a heyday once the heat starts dying down.’_

“It kinda makes me think back to the first time we met. We really didn’t get along.”

_‘No shit, we didn’t. And we still don’t. When you’re having a bad day, or I’m on day three since I last slept, we even bicker in the middle of combat.’_

“And I haven’t lost count on how many threats you’ve made, and then followed up on them. But… you never seem to follow through with it when you pitch those at me. Pico called you an ‘old geezer’ once, and you chased him around with your sword. I technically say the same thing with different wording and you just told me off.” a slight chuckle escapes Otis as the right arm resting across his shoulders gives a light punch at that.

_‘There. Happy?’_

Otis glances down in time to see a smirk sliding back into the resting bitch face look on Piconjo’s face.

“I still want to know why…”

_‘And I’m not telling.’_

“I mean, you have been acting weird.”

_‘Have I now, Sherlock?’_

“More than usual since we got ditched in Nevada.”

The hand gives another light punch, but this time points at something in the distance. Seeing what it is, Otis picks up his walking pace. He would be running, if he didn’t have an undead’s leg clinging to him as well.

~~

All that is missing now is his other leg.

After a long day, losing a lot of blood from that rocket blast, and this being night three since he last slept, there was no way Piconjo could stake out again tonight. Yet here he was, struggling to stay awake anyway as Otis didn’t even last until midnight.

The kid needs sleep. On the contrary, Piconjo needs sleep, too. Or tomorrow he’s going to squander daylight hours snoring his lungs off. Or worse, he could wake up to zombie brains and the first thing he will want to maul is Otis sleeping across the campfire from him.

Would he be breaking the promise if he took a quick kip right now?

Not fifteen minutes later. A deadweight thud lands in front of him, and that got him to snap his eyes open. He was ready to roar at whoever it was when he was able to identify his missing leg.

And Alucard, apparently. The psychic goth never forgot about them after he was done doing some kind of side hustle to help hinder the invasive Toadies.

“Got the word that you did a brave thing today, at the expense of your body.”

“Shut up…” Piconjo grumbles, sitting up, suppressing a yawn, and taking that appendage back to shove it up the empty leg of his pants. “Any luck finding my bike?”

“Bandits have it. And if we don’t get it back soon, they will break it down for scrap parts.” the blind goth replied with a shrug, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Alright, I hope you’re wired right now. Because I’m about to crash.”

That was all Piconjo got out before he flops on his back, waits on his leg to properly reconnect to the rest of his body before closing the heavy eyelids. Much to his relief.

Oh, he kept a promise alright; to a girl who died at the hands of another school shooting lead by a goth. And prior to her death, she knew she would become a big sister to the kid cop. News she received weeks before the incident, and dying weeks before Otis was born.

Piconjo opens an eye as he glances at the kid while in thought. He had broken many promises in the past, most of which due to involuntary actions concerning the red mist on his behalf. Even now, as sleep beckons at him, he can’t tell if he will still manage. But he can not, will not, let this kid die on his watch.

Piconjo is immortal.

Otis is not.

It would be real easy to break this promise if Otis does die in his care. Though until that happens, the ginger will do everything in his power to make it next to impossible for any adversaries to break past him and attack Otis directly.

Even at the expense of his well being.

Even if Newgrounds would be safer if he was buried six feet under, instead of being tossed behind bars, after the day the faux admin is knocked off his damn perch.

And even if Otis did manage to get himself killed between now and before then, Piconjo would reach into the depths of purgatory and back, with Skitzo’s help or through provoking the Nevadean Clown.

This is one promise he refuses to let scatter in his hands.


End file.
